


sponsorship

by astynome



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, College AU, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Pining, Spoilers, haikyuu!! - Freeform, hq, hq!!, i should not be allowed to type. ever, kenhina - Freeform, kenma is a sugar daddy but he catches feelings wbk, long-distance friendship turns to love au, slight kuroyaku because i love them as well, this is born out of me pining and projecting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astynome/pseuds/astynome
Summary: Kozume Kenma is many things.Stock broker. Professional gamer. Youtuber. University Student. Hell, even the CEO of a company.But one of the things Kozume Kenma is not, is a sponsor.Or so he thought, until Hinata Shoyo reappears in his life.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 38
Kudos: 182





	1. the sun comes out.

It’s a cold winter day when the doorbell rings. The sun is of the watery kind, painting the sky in blurry greys, blues and whites, like it was about to snow. The trees outside are bare, but there are still a few birds sitting on their wispy branches, huddled together like a couple at a bus stop. 

There are a few people out. He suspects that there will be, it’s still too early in the evening for people to be heading home, and even though it’s winter, the sun hasn’t gone down into the horizon yet.

He shuffles out of his many rooms in his house, wrapping his arms around his body as he breathes steadily, trying his best to regulate his temperature.

His cat sitting on the windowsill meows in greeting when Kenma passes by him, patting his head as he does so. There’s a satisfied purr in response, and Kenma smiles to himself.

Despite his fame and money, it’s the small things in life that brings Kenma happiness, like completing an assignment a day before it’s due or petting his cat. Simple things that helped Kenma remain humble and not get too hot-headed.

Not like he had ever been the hot-headed type in the first place. Throughout high school he kept to himself, only expressing himself to a select few people in his class and the volleyball team. After graduating, he took extra effort to make sure he would stay in contact with his friends, like Hinata and Inuoka, to name a few. Kuroo still popped by whenever he could, claiming he needed to make sure Kenma hadn’t turned into a hermit crab yet.

Kenma muses that it’s probably Kuroo at the door, with Yaku by his side like the last time he had gotten a visit. Yaku, or some person Kuroo had managed to drag into one of his crazy’s laboratory shenanigans.

He reaches the door and braces himself for the blast of cold air that will come into his household, already shuddering at the thought. His nimble fingers tighten around the metal door handle, relishing in the last bits of warmth before the biting cold takes it away. Opening the door, he steadies himself for the icy air, but not for the extremely bright Hinata Shoyo at his door.

“Kenma!” his friend loudly exclaims, in typical Hinata style. Kenma’s eyes are wide in surprise, but internally he’s happy to see his old volleyball rival and friend. Hinata was the one of the few people Kenma enjoyed being around, although he never expressed his excitement in the bustling way Hinata did. But he’s grateful for it: Hinata Shoyo kept things interesting for Kenma.

“Shoyo,” Kenma softly greets, the shock disappearing in his eyes for it to be replaced by warmth. “It’s nice to see you.”

Hinata is beaming, just like those bright lights that lit up advertisements and billboards at the Shibuya crossing. His whole aura is one of glow and radiance, exactly like the sun. To this day, ever since Kenma first crossed paths with Hinata all those years ago, he’s unable to comprehend how this orange-haired, crazy-jumping and enthusiastic ball of energy had managed to outshine even the brightest star in the universe.

He lets Hinata in, who’s busy rambling about everything that’s happened since they last saw each other. His brown eyes are lit up with glee as he excitedly speaks about his last year in high school with the volleyball, the regrets he had and the times he enjoyed. Kenma gives him an attentive ear as he leads Hinata to the living room, and heads to the kitchen to prepare a cup of green tea for himself and his guest.

“Yeah, so Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are planning to do different things in college, and Yachi-san is going to do design,” Hinata says, gesturing with his hands as Kenma walks out of the kitchen, a tea tray in his hands. He places it gently on the kotatsu table, and doesn’t have to say a word to Hinata as the latter takes the cup in one hand and sips the liquid too quickly, realizing how hot it actually was.

His face pricks in pain, and he gives Kenma a winced smile as he smiles to himself in response. Hinata’s nose scrunches as the pain begins to fade away, and places the cup on the table before continuing.

“And Kageyama-you remember Kageyama yeah?” Hinata asks with curiosity, as Kenma nods knowingly. Kageyama Tobio, the all-star setter in Karasuno who had made a name for himself ever since his first year in high school. Hinata beams again, and Kenma’s starting to wonder if he really needs to turn on the lights inside if Hinata keeps shining like that.

“Kageyama’s gonna go play in the V-League!” Hinata continues, throwing his hands into the air. Kenma’s not surprised. With Kageyama’s skill-set and talent it makes sense for him to go pro.

“What about you, Shoyo?” Kenma asks, taking a sip of his own tea and watching Hinata do the same. The latter is happy it’s not as scalding hot as before.

Hinata grabs a few biscuits Kenma has left on the tray earlier, stuffing them into his mouth eagerly and speaks. Amidst the barrage of crumbs and spittle that emerge from Hinata’s mouth, Kenma can’t make out a single word.

He gives him a blank look as Hinata swallows it all down with a large gulp of green tea, now gone cold.  _ That’s not gonna feel right later. _

“I’m going abroad! To play beach volleyball!” Hinata announces, wiping away stray crumbs from his cheeks. “In Brazil!”

Kenma can’t help but feel overwhelmed. “Brazil…?” his voice trails off, giving Hinata a disapproving look.

Hinata nods, orange hair bobbing up and down the same way those lucky cat statues did. It’s cute, in an adoring kind of way.

“Brazil!” Hinata repeats, with just the amount of enthusiasm as before. “I want to be able to sharpen my skills and then enter the league. I want to learn to do everything on court.” His eyes are no longer shining with the same glee and excitement as earlier, but are now steely with fierce determination and focus. It makes him cower slightly.

Kenma doesn’t know how he does it. How he can go intensely bright and bubbly about so many things to being so incredibly focused on just one thing. But he’s not one to speak. Kuroo would be saying the same thing about him when it came to gaming.

But this kind of determination and focus is different. Volleyball, for Kenma, had been more of an experience that helped him shape his perspective, but it never was a passion he wanted to continue later on in life. Much like high school, he pushed all volleyball-related activities away to make space for other things he wanted to do. And while a large part of him was grateful for it, a much smaller part of his conscience missed being part of a team, having to attend weekend practices, and looking forward to training camps and official matches.

For Kozume Kenma, volleyball was more about the strategy and the dynamics of the people, rather than the sport itself. He enjoyed watching it, enjoyed analyzing and figuring out things people wouldn’t have usually spotted. 

He only stayed in the club for so long because of his teammates, and partially because he wanted to face Shoyo in matches and such. But when the third-years left and Fukunaga became captain, much of his own interest had left with them. 

Volleyball, Kenma selfishly thinks, is only special because of the certain people who made it special, like Kuroo and Hinata.

It’s not like the rest of the team didn’t matter to Kenma. He always has a special place in his heart for them, the team who took care of him and loved him despite his apathy and lack of interest. From Yaku’s doting and Lev’s simpleton confidence, to Fukunaga’s quiet yet expressive exterior and Taketora’s bravado, each and every single member of Nekoma’s volleyball team holds a special memory to him, but it’s not enough to keep Kenma as involved in the sport as they would have liked.

Before he met Hinata Shoyo, volleyball had simply been a side hobby of his, one he showed interest in because it was. simply, interesting. It was interesting to see how players moved on court, synchronized like sardines swimming together in a school. It reminded Kenma of games he’d play on his consoles back at home, so he could apply game technique and strategy from there to real-life. 

Hinata Shoyo came into his life and changed that. What simply was a chance encounter because he was lost turned into something that Kenma would cherish forever, and change his perspective on the game completely. Something that made him  _ want  _ to play. Something that made him want to continue to practice harder with Lev to perfect his spikes, something that drove him to go and face Hinata in games that determined the end for one of them. Hinata Shoyo made volleyball interesting for Kenma.

Which is why, when Kenma ponders over his friend’s plans to go to Brazil, he considers it.

“You’ll need a lot of funding to support that kind of trip,” Kenma says after a while, after Hinata’s determination has died down a bit. He sits straight up, running a hand through his fading hair. “It’s important you get a sponsor for it.”   


“Sponsor?” Hinata asks, his eyes now wide, cocking his head to the side. It’s clear to Kenma that he hadn’t considered this before. “I know about the funding, I’ve asked my mom to direct my college fund into this instead, but what do you mean by sponsor?”

“You know, someone with connections who’ll help you find a team and support you with accommodation and things like that,” Kenma explains. “If you find a really good company, you’ll be able to get a lot of benefits and additions, but most companies will just help you get a proper foundation to help you support yourself. Most athletes and loads of other professions have those.”   
  


Hinata’s mouth is agape in wonder. “Where am I gonna find one of those?” he inquires, and Kenma gives him a smirk in response.    
  
“I run one. It’s called Bouncing Ball Corp,” Kenma replies, the smirk still plastered on his face. “But I’m currently not sponsoring anyone at the moment. It might be interesting.” When Hinata’s eyes have reverted back to their usually sunny state, Kenma can’t help but feel warm inside, and the former smirk changes to a genuine smile.

Hinata reaches over the kotatsu to envelop Kenma in a warm hug, one which he isn’t expecting. He freezes up slightly as Hinata’s arms wrap themselves around his oversized sweater, and slowly reciprocates by hugging Hinata back.

“Thanks so much, Kenma!” Hinata says with cheeriness in his voice, letting out a sigh of relief as he pulls away. He gives him a small smile in response. “It really does mean a lot.”

“I’m glad I could help out,” Kenma answers, his cheeks suddenly warm. Thinking that it has to do with Shoyo’s own sunny demeanor he turns his eyes to the window, where the sun has set a long time back and now the moon and a few stars are out.

“It’s late, you should be getting home,” Kenma advises, turning his eyes back to Hinata, who’s nodding knowingly. They both get up, Kenma shuddering when the cold from earlier returns as he heads to the door, showing Hinata out. As Hinata slips on his shoes and takes his bag from the floor, the cat on the windowsill meows.

“Ah, I didn’t notice the cat!” Hinata states, his eyes now on the calico feline. Its eyes are closed in bliss as it purrs in delight, enjoying the heat emanating from the radiator under the sill. “He’s just like you, Kenma.”   
  


Kenma chuckles to himself, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

Hinata gives him another warm and brightening smile, before heading outside. The icy air from before has become significantly colder, and Kenma is uncertain how Hinata Shoyo is still this warm and high-spirited.  _ I guess the weather doesn’t really brighten this sunshine, huh,  _ he thinks to himself.

“Come over again,” Kenma calls out, as Hinata waves goodbye. He’s walking down the lane in reverse, his eyes still on Kenma. “We’ll discuss the necessary things then.”

In the heavy white lights of the street lamps above, Kenma can still make out the bright light in Hinata’s eyes. “Sure thing!” his friend calls out, waving more enthusiastically. “See ya later, Kenma!”

Kenma waves back in response, waiting until Hinata has disappeared from his sight. He turns around and heads back inside to the warmth, where the cat on the windowsill meows again.

“Just like me, huh…”


	2. the clouds have returned.

Two weeks have passed since Hinata Shoyo reappeared in Kenma’s life, eyes bursting with hope and aspiration.

In those two weeks, Kenma’s been bombarded with presentations, streaming, and online board meetings (he could not, for the life of him, be bothered with physically going into an office). And in those two weeks, he hasn’t had a wink of sleep.

His eyes are incredibly heavy as he tries his best to scan the screen in front of him, which is a long list of claims and legal terminology that he doesn’t understand. “Maybe Yaku-san will be able to translate this for me,” he muses to himself, eyelids drooping as he scrolls through the centuries long document on the screen. “Sounds like something he would be interested in.”   
  
The document in question regarded the terms and conditions of sponsoring Hinata as an athlete, something his legal team drafted one night. While Kenma is glad that they’re going through everything properly-considering that this is the first ever time they’re sponsoring someone-he secretly wishes that it didn’t have to be so word-heavy.

The low buzz of his doorbell ringing snaps him back to being hyper awake, and he clambers out of his gaming chair, padding in his socks to the front door. His cat has fallen asleep in the clothes basket in the laundry room, so there’s no meow to greet him from coming out of his “enclosure”, as Kuroo likes to call it.

It’s become significantly warmer, which Kenma is glad for. Not like it mattered to him as much, since he didn’t really venture outside unless he had a purpose to, but at least he didn’t shudder as much within the confines of his own house.

“Kenma!” Hinata greets, when he opens the door. The warmth of the oncoming spring sunshine lights up Hinata’s features, making him a lot brighter than he usually is. Kenma smiles in response, stepping aside to let his friend in. “Shoyo.”    
  


The literal ball of sunshine lunges forward at Kenma, enveloping him in a warm hug like last time. And like last time, Kenma’s cheeks become warm.

Hinata pulls away, a large smile on his face. “Sorry I haven’t visited in two weeks. I took up a part-time job in one of the grade schools nearby, to coach volleyball.” His expression softens. “I thought it could help with the money.”

Kenma gives him an understanding nod, as Kenma takes him to his game room. Hinata’s tone changes from one of glee to pure shock and wonder as he takes in the lavish decor before him.

It’s a large room, probably the size of one of Karasuno’s classrooms. There are various arcade terminals spread across the room, from Pac-Man to Space Invaders, even some Hinata hasn’t seen before. One corner of the room, the one nearest to the window, is devoted to a whole gaming station; there are consoles, monitors, and a large TV display hung up above. But apart from gaming and such, there are bookcases scattered around, stacked with various sudoku and crossword puzzle books, as well as a couple of game theory books.

They’re back in the living room, sitting under the kotatsu. Kenma’s sipping on a juice box while his friend is busy looking around the room around them, admiring the various gaming-related certificates Kenma has hung up on the walls.

“You should live in Roppongi Hills,” Hinata says after a while, registering everything in. Kenma chuckles to himself softly, evidently very pleased with himself and his work.

“That’s what Kuroo said too,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “But I just spend money on games, nothing else. Hence why I decided to sponsor you.”

Hinata looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Why did you decide to sponsor me, by the way?”

“I have money to spare, so it’s not like it would be a financial burden. In fact, it might lessen the worry I have on my mind about what the fuck I’m supposed to do with all of it,” Kenma replies, tucking his legs underneath his body. Hinata gazes at him in child-like wonder. 

“I want to be able to say that one day too,” he says, his eyes shining with awe. Kenma chuckles again, now huddling. 

“Plus Shoyo,” Kenma continues, his cat-like irises pointedly staring at Hinata with such determination his friend has only seen when they’ve played matches in high school, “you’re interesting.” Hinata’s about to ask something before Kenma interjects, his voice now low despite the smirk that now occupies his visage. “So if you get boring,” Kenma warns, “I’ll stop.”

*

“Here’s all the legal stuff,” Kenma says, pointing at his work monitor. “To be honest, I can’t be bothered to read this entire thing, so I’m going to ask Yaku-san for a translation and I’ll send that to you by email. And over here,” he continues, switching tabs, “are the cheapest flights going to Brazil for the next month or so.” He looks at Hinata, who’s reading the screen with intent, as he types down anything important into his phone. 

“I didn’t think I would be leaving so soon,” Hinata says after a while, his voice low. Kenma can make out hints of sadness in his words. His eyes seem misty, but Kenma can’t really say, because his own are tired beyond comprehension.

“Well,” Kenma begins, his eyes back on the screen. The harsh white light helps him keep his eyes open, although he can hear the oncoming lecture from Kuroo in his head. “You don’t have to leave for a couple of months if you’re not ready yet. Flights get cheaper in the long run, but I’d advise you to have a solid decision by the end of next week, at least. Then I’d get an idea of how to facilitate your accommodation and rent, and other things like that.” Kenma gives him a reassuring smile as Hinata’s former misty eyes are now filled with worry. “It’ll work out, don’t worry.”

Hinata lets out a heavy sigh, settling into the chair beside Kenma’s. “I don’t think I’m really ready for this,” Hinata confesses, head in his hands. Kenma’s smile has dropped to a somber look. Hinata looks at him, and Kenma can see stress added to the worry in his eyes. “I mean like, I can’t even speak Portuguese, and I’m really just rushing into things head-first,” Hinata continues. “I guess it’s all just new to me and I’ll have to adapt to it-”

“That’s why you’re interesting,” Kenma blurts out. Hinata looks at him, expressionless as Kenma can feel his cheeks warm up again. “Because you never stick to just one thing. You’re always adapting, changing, finding out new things.”

“When you told me you were planning to go to Brazil, I couldn’t even understand  _ why  _ anyone would ever want to displace themselves that far,” Kenma explains, pulling his knees to his chest. “You have a different kind of drive, something I haven’t seen in anyone at all. I don’t know how you do it, how you’re able to always have so much energy to power you through an entire month. Nothing really seems to put you in a damper, unless it affects you physically and mentally a great deal.” Kenma yawns, rubbing his eyes as he does so. 

“You might think you’re not ready for this Shoyo, and that might be the truth. Yes, you’re doing this impulsively, as most people would say.” Hinata scowls. “But I think I know you well enough to say that you’re going to value this moment in your life a lot.”

Hinata’s face has softened, and there’s a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Kenma,” he replies softly, his cheeks brightening up. “I don’t think I can ever pay you back for all of this.”

Kenma waves it off passively. “Just stay interesting. That’s all I ask for in return. Oh, and become a big name.” Hinata laughs at that, while Kenma gives him a smile in return. “That’s all I want.”

*

Hinata left a while back, and Kenma’s cat has returned, curling up on his lap and purring contentedly. 

He absentmindedly strokes its calico fur as he scrolls through his Instagram feed, liking people’s posts without much thought. His feed refreshes to show Kuroo’s newest post, which is an old picture of the Nekoma volleyball team. In it, Yaku’s seen backing away from Lev, who has Kenma on his shoulders and a cat in his hands. He brandishes it like some new weapon he picked up on the street. The rest of the team are standing by, with Kuroo giving them a tired look.

_ “Missing these fuckers a little extra today,”  _ the caption reads, and Kenma can’t help but smile. He clicks on the comments to read them, and can’t help but giggle at Yaku’s aggressive response, and Bokuto’s own, which reads, “ _ you’re such an emo fuck lol”  _ with a bunch of emojis after it.

Kenma places his phone down, taking a sip of the green tea he brewed earlier. Yeah, Kuroo was an emo fuck, but Kenma could understand why. Those were definitely better times, where Kenma’s only concern was whether he could make it through high school with a pass mark in math.

His cat has fallen asleep now, its body rising and falling slowly with each breath it takes. Kenma stares at it in disbelief.

“Now how the fuck am I supposed to sleep?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kenma's cat ceo of not letting kenma sleep


	3. Chapter 3

The airport is cold, too cold.

“What’s the point of spring if they’re just going to make everything else much colder?” Kenma grumbles, as he trudges alongside Inuoka, who’s chuckling along to Kenma’s comments. The white bag he holds in his hand bumps against his leg in even intervals.

“It’s not that bad,” he replies, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets. “It could be a lot colder, you know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like it.”   
  


Inuoka lets out a clear laugh this time, causing Kenma to look to his side. “Even after all these years, you still haven’t changed one bit, Kozume-san.”   
“Stop sounding like Kuroo. It’s not like a century has passed since I last saw any of you,” Kenma shoots back, wanting more than ever to bury himself into his blankets back at home. Inuoka smiles back in response, ruffling his now fading hair.

“Ah, look who it is. Mister ‘I Don’t Want to See the Outside’ Kenma Kozume,” the teasing voice of one Kuroo Tetsurou greets them, the much taller boy giving them cheeky looks. “Glad to see you can still move,” he says with a smile, as Kenma scowls at him in response.

“Glad to see your head’s still on your shoulders, what with all the experimenting you do on a daily basis,” Kenma mutters as Kuroo lets out a laugh, earning him a small giggle from Inuoka. “Good to see you too, Inuoka,” Kuroo greets, after giving him a high-five. The bustling Inuoka is full of energy, much like Hinata Shoyo. In some weird way, it calms Kenma down from the bundle of nerves that are beginning to tie and untie themselves repeatedly, before settling down into uneven knots. 

“Is Lev here yet?” Kenma asks, when they sit down at a coffee shop. Despite it being the peak time to travel, the airport is sparsely populated. There aren’t many people coming or going, but Kenma suspects it could get busier as the day progresses. 

“He said he’ll be a little late,” Inuoka replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “He woke up late.”   
  
“Typical.”   
  
The three of them sit in silence, musing over their coffee. It’s one of the rare occasions Kenma subjects himself to drinking coffee rather than his usual, green tea. And while he’s grateful for the change, he still appreciates the sense of calm that green tea gives him.

Yaku joins later, his hair roughed up in certain places. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, giving them a smile. “The train was delayed.”

“Well we have to wait for Lev anyway, because he slept in,” Kuroo replies, gesturing to a seat beside him. “And Shrimpy and his family aren’t here yet. So you’re good.”

Yaku mumbles something about Lev being late, and Kenma pipes up. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“You didn’t even hear what Yakkun said.”   


“Did to.”   
“Did not.”   
  


A pause follows as Yaku places an order for a latte.

“Did to.”   
“Did not.”

Kenma scowls at Kuroo, reaching over the table to flick him in protest. 

Yaku sighs, but there’s a smile on his face. “You both are still the same as always, like two old people in a senior home,” he comments, as Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him. “You’d think all those chemicals you’re around daily would alter your attitude.” 

“That’s not how chemistry works,” Kuroo snaps, arms now crossed. “This is why you’re studying law.”

“For your information,” Yaku snarls, crossing his own arms now, “I don’t like chemistry, you bedhead nerd. And law is so much more fun.”

“I am not a bedhead nerd-”   
  
“Just get a room,” Kenma says with resignation, resting his head on his hand. “Sort out your own issues there and resolve your ever-growing sexual tension that has to hang in the air every time we come together.”

Both of them have gone quiet, not looking at each other now. Yaku’s face has gone a bright red, like the color of Nekoma’s jersey.

Time passes quickly, with chatter and bickering between the four of them helping it go by quicker. An hour has passed before the towering silver-haired Haiba Lev appears, to which Yaku scolds him tirelessly for his tardiness. 

_ Just like old times. _

Kenma checks his phone impatiently, anxiously waiting for a text from Hinata to say that he was going to be here soon. Well, it was Kenma’s fault for wanting to be here five hours earlier than most regular people did, but he has to blame it on the nerves that have been acting up since the morning.

He’s unexpectedly very twitchy, moving a lot in his chair. Yaku notices this from the corner of his eye but doesn’t comment on it. Whatever Kenma’s going through, it’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it just yet.

“How does everyone feel if we go out for dinner after this?” Kuroo asks, and Kenma’s eyes are averted from his phone screen to his childhood friend. Yaku’s shoulders relax; he’s getting tense just from watching Kenma fidget in his seat like that. 

“We went out for dinner two days ago,” Kenma replies, his eyes back to his phone. Kuroo gives him a look, before dismissing it completely. “Doesn’t matter, this whole affair is going to make me really hungry at the end of it.”

_ Are you really sure it’s not you and Kuroo that need to get a room together?  _ Yaku thinks, looking at Kenma worriedly.

“Yaku-san, if you keep that face it’s going to stick,” Kenma says, not looking up from his phone. “Then no one’s going to marry you.”

Yaku sits up straight, clearly offended. “Hey!” He straightens out his shirt, pouting. 

Kuroo looks at him with a knowing stare. “He’s right, you know.”

“Since when were you a marriage expert, Mr. ‘I Can’t Find a Date to Save My Life’?”

They’re about to launch into an argument (Kenma has lost count since the first one), when a familiar cheery voice cuts through the air, ringing like bells at the temple.

“Kenma!”

At the sound of his name, Kenma turns around, and beams as he sees the orange-haired Hinata Shoyo head towards them, a carry-on bag hanging on his shoulder. Behind him, his mother and a smaller version of him-Yaku informs him that it’s his sister-trail behind, watching him with glee. 

Hinata never seems to lose his own glow, and the sunlight that filters through the airport’s glass roof only amplifies it more, so that Hinata Shoyo seems more like a shooting star than a steady beam of sunlight as he moves.

Kenma stands up, about to give Hinata a high five in greeting when the latter wraps his arms around Kenma’s frail body, squeezing tightly. Kenma’s own arms are hesitant at first, until he slowly gives in and hugs Hinata back. 

They let go, although Kenma doesn’t want to admit that he wants to hold on a little longer. Hinata is smiling his usual sunshine-filled eyes, although Kenma can see the sadness in his eyes.

_ He doesn’t want to leave. _

“I’m happy you guys could come,” Hinata says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His mother and sister have caught up to him, and Kenma can see the misty eyes of Hinata’s mother look at him with a tenderness Kenma hasn’t seen in a while. “I had my farewell dinner last night with my friends last night, so you don’t have to worry about me crying all that much today.” He gives them all a reassuring smile.

Hinata goes around the whole coffee table, high fiving Inuoka and Lev, and shaking Yaku’s and Kuroo’s hands. There’s more chatter that develops between the five of them, with Hinata’s little sister Natsu butting in when she can. Despite all this however, Kenma still manages to zone out and focus on one person: Hinata Shoyo.

He’s like a game character, to Kenma. Someone who you have to keep levelling up so he eventually reaches the last level. Someone who needed drastic change to achieve the end goal of defeating a final boss. Yet no matter what you changed about Hinata Shoyo, you could never change one thing: his positive, hard-working, and honest demeanour. It would honestly be a down-grade if you took that away from him. You could boost him up using other people’s strengths to enhance his own, or you could alter him in tiny little ways that would lead to a major advantage in the future, but you could never, ever take away his personality, no matter what you did.

It’s one of the reasons why Hinata is so interesting to Kenma.

“Have you checked in and got everything done?” Yaku asks, placing a worrying hand on Hinata’s shoulder, who nods enthusiastically. He’s buzzing with excitement, although there are tears building up in the corners of his eyes.

“Well, Shrimpy,” Kuroo says, ruffling Hinata’s hair, “we’re gonna miss ya.”

“Take and send us lots of pictures!” Inuoka exclaims, unable to contain his own joy. 

“Try growing a couple of more inches,” Lev teases, as Yaku scowls at him from behind. Instead of telling off Lev, Yaku pulls Hinata in a one-sided hug, giving him the same tender look as Hinata’s mom. “Take care and eat well, okay?” Yaku says, as Hinata nods again.

“Isn’t that something his mom should be telling him?” Kenma mutters, as Hinata’s mother bursts into sweet laughter. “You sure are a character, Kozume-kun,” she says, with a smile. “Thank you so much for sponsoring Hinata and helping him with this. It really means a lot.”

Kenma gives her a small smile of appreciation. “Anytime.”

Hinata’s looking at him again, his previously teared-up eyes now filled with tenderness that matched Yaku’s and his mother’s. Kenma goes a little pink, which earns him a few sniggers from Kuroo, who’s watching him intently.

“Ah. I forgot to give you something,” Kenma says, remembering the bag from earlier. He reaches from underneath the table, pulling out the white bag from earlier and handing it to Hinata, who takes it from him carefully. “It’s a parting gift.”

Hinata’s hand rummages in the bag, finally pulling out a sleek black box. He lets out a sound of pure amazement as he places it on the coffee table, and opens it to reveal a matching handheld console. Holding it up with wonder, he examines it with wide eyes as Lev and Inuoka crowd around him, their expressions similar.

“It’s the newest one, and has most of the latest games,” Kenma explains, his own face lighting up. “I thought if you got bored on the flight you could whip it out and spend time on it. Just remember to charge it before it loses battery completely.” Hinata looks like he’s about to spill with tears.

“Please don’t cry,” Kenma says quickly, wringing his hands. “You’ll make Yaku-san cry and that’s always a mess.”

Hinata smiles softly, sniffling. “Thank you,” he says after a while, placing the console into the box carefully, before placing it into his carry-on.

Kenma hums in response, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “You should get going, or you’ll get late for your flight,” Kenma says, as Hinata looks back to his mother and sister, the former struggling to hold her back her tears. Hinata turns back to them, straightening his posture.

“Yeah, I should really get going.” There’s hesitation in his voice, but he tries it best to hide it behind his usual confidence. He looks at all of them, his eyes dark wells of admiration and love. “Thanks for seeing me off, you guys. It really does mean a lot.” He hugs each one of them individually, and when he comes to Yaku, the older boy bursts into tears, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“Yakkun, don’t be such a baby,” Kuroo says, but he too chokes on his own voice. Lev and Inuoka too are struggling to hold back their own tears.

_ I hate crying. _

Hinata comes to him again, and the hug they share is probably the longest one Kenma’s ever experienced. His senses are highly aware of Hinata’s hands on his back, tenderly holding onto him, his head resting against his shoulder. Hinata’s sunny warmth enamours Kenma’s entire physique, making him forget whatever cold he felt earlier. It was like being wrapped up in his blankets back at home. 

_ He smells like cinnamon,  _ Kenma remarks internally, as he feels his own fingers press into the fabric of Hinata’s jacket.  _ That or something caramel-like. _

Hinata pulls away with hesitation, letting his touch linger on Kenma’s body for longer. His eyes meet Kenma’s, and Kenma can see his reflection in chocolate brown irises. 

_ The bleach is fading. _

“Thanks for everything again, Kenma!” Hinata exclaims, a large smile on his face. And in those dark eyes Kenma can see himself blush.

“Stay interesting, Shoyo.” Kenma gives him a soft smile. 

Goodbyes are said for the final time, Yaku’s tears still spilling down his cheeks even though he stubbornly denies their existence. Hinata gives his mother and sister hugs as he is equally showered by love from the both of them, until the boy finally decides it’s time to part. They watch, most of them with misty eyes, as Hinata heads towards immigration, turning around every five minutes or so to wave goodbye.

They watch until the bobbing orange head disappears, at which Hinata’s family says their own goodbyes and thanks them for coming. The four of them watch, as Natsu and her mother walk hand-in-hand, talking excitedly amongst themselves. 

“I changed my mind,” Kenma says, after moments of silence have passed. “Let’s go get dinner.”

*

It’s nearly nine o’clock when Kenma reaches home. The streets aren't as crowded as they were during the evenings, which meant he relished in a quiet walk back.

Dinner had been entertaining, to say the least. Yaku had gotten so incredibly drunk Kuroo had to take him home. Lev ended up getting lost at least before he reached his train station. Inuoka broke two glasses accidentally, even volunteering to stay behind and fix them back up, piece by piece.

Ah well, it’s a bit of brightening up after how emotionally draining this day has been. 

Hinata had texted when he was in the plane, just before it was about to take off. He included a selfie as well, which had him beaming at the camera, his eyes blissful.

It had made Kenma’s heart flutter a little bit, but he didn't tell anyone about it and kept it to himself. All throughout dinner he remained in his usual stoic demeanor, smiling and butting in whenever the occasion arose.

Now he’s home, comfortably huddled underneath the mass of blankets he has on his bed. Warm. Safe. Secure.

Yet for some unknown reason, he can’t stop the tears he didn't know he had been holding in from spilling out, leaving light stains on his pillowcase.

He sniffles, rubbing his nose with his hand as he scolds himself softly. But it does little to stop the continuous flow of tears.

His cat appears, smelling like laundry detergent. The sharp scent makes him sneeze, and he reaches for the tissues on his bedside table as his cat comfortably nestles itself in the crook of his neck. Softer scents are more merciful to his nose, like vanilla and cinnamon.

_ Like Hinata. _

“I haven't given you a name yet, have I?” Kenma whispers, his fingers stroking the calico fur lightly. The cat purrs in response. Kenma smiles despite his tear-stained cheeks.

“I think I’ll call you Pudding.”


	4. lonely spring days.

The days are getting longer.

The sun is out for longer, and Kenma can feel the warmth of the sunshine seep in through the windows and the walls, warming him up a little bit more than he would have appreciated.

He keeps his windows open now, letting Pudding come and goes as he pleases. While Kenma’s appreciative of the company his cat keeps him, he figures it would be better if he got a bit of outside exposure.

If Kuroo was here, he would have called him a hypocrite.

“Can’t satisfy everyone,” Kenma says to himself, taking a long sip out of his juicebox as he pads up and down the passageway. His legs are starting to cramp up from the continuous hours of tucking in his legs like he was at some sort of tea house, but he couldn’t blame himself for sitting in the exact same position for the past three hours. It’s not like he exactly has freedom of movement during an exam.

Two weeks have passed since Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil. And in those two weeks, Kenma hasn’t ever experienced such loneliness before.

Granted, while Hinata was still in Japan they didn’t hang out as much, due to their differing schedules. But Kenma still found time to call up and check up on him, and come to a few of games, treating Hinata to dinner later. 

Kuroo often pointed it out, how Kenma gave more effort into being there for Hinata than his other friends. And while Kenma had argued that he cared for his friends equally but in different ways, Kuroo had given him a sly look.

_“You have a favorite, Kenma,” Kuroo says, as he muses over the science journal Kenma bought for him the other day. “Everyone does. My favorites are you, Yaku, Kai, and my mom. It’s only natural for you to have a favorite too.”_

_“I don’t,” is Kenma’s curt reply, crossing his arms in front of his chest indignantly. “I don’t like having favorites.”_

_“Heh. Sure.”_

Keeping favorites meant giving all your attention to them, prioritizing them above everyone else you interacted with in your life. It sounded like a whole lot of work that Kenma doesn’t want to deal with. But he can’t help but wonder if it’s true for him and Shoyo.

He decides to step outside, thinking that maybe a change of air will do some good for him. Maybe clear his head, help him air out his thoughts in a more understandable manner.

It’s late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky. Despite its position, the light it emits is one that gives Kenma a sense of fluttering warmth, a kind that Kenma has only ever felt from one person.

_Let’s not think about him right now._

With small steps, Kenma descends the staircase, heading into the modest garden he maintained. One of the more surprising hobbies he had picked up after leaving school was gardening and looking after the flowers-the other being knitting and embroidery, which Lev had been so shocked at he nearly fainted-that he planted in little trays and hanging boxes, which took up the face of one of the outer walls of the house. 

In the spring of his first year at university, he had planted peonies and hyacinth along the borders of the western and southern walls, delighted in their dusky rose and lilac hues that developed after a couple of weeks of dedication. As the year went on, he had planted all sorts of other kinds as well, like daffodils and bluebells around the pathway that led to the small greenhouse he had put up during the winter. His interest didn’t just lie in flowers; Yaku had introduced him to wall-creepers and the such, and Kenma was happy to include them around the exterior of his house, allowing them to snake into the kitchen and hang along the railings of the staircase.

As he walks around this little Eden of his, sipping away at his juice box, he notices that the bushes that border the neighbor’s wall need trimming. He makes a mental note to get to it when he’s done with the assignments he still has left. 

A message pops up on his phone screen, the little notification bell snapping him out of his flower-induced euphoria. He almost drops his phone into the flowerbed before him, catching it as it falls mid-air. He smiles inwardly, thanking his setter instincts. If Kuroo was here he’d be chastising him, telling him all those morning practices were worth it.

Kenma looks at his phone, scrunching his nose in disgust. It’s from his company, Bouncing Ball Co., regarding a meeting they’re planning to hold in a few hours. They’re asking whether he’ll be able to attend or not.

While Kenma is the CEO, sometimes he wishes he had a twin who could be bothered to attend these meetings for him. Kenma does care about his company, but not enough to sit through two hour pixelated meetings where someone’s pressure cooker is going off every five minutes.

With more reluctance that he’s ever felt-even more than when Nekomata-sensei had told him to spend a couple of more hours with Lev to help time his spikes-Kenma sends a quick message, saying that he’ll see them around seven that evening.

The sun has lowered some more, casting a warm orange glow on Tokyo. From his house he can see most of the city below, including the metro line and a couple of private housing communities. He used to be a part of that world, one that functioned twenty-four seven, every hour of the day and every day of the year. A city that never slept, even when most days exhausted the fuck out of you. 

It was tiring, that was for sure. But Kenma would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. He missed the availability of convenience stores at 2 AM, when he had been up too late gaming or watching a livestream on YouTube. He missed the rides home on the metro line, where Kuroo would talk to him about whatever happened during the day while Kenma gave him an attentive ear, gaming away on his own console. 

Life was simpler then. Probably the only worry on his mind was whether he had enough sleep to deal with whatever it was school threw at him the next day. 

The sun continues its slow descent as Kenma plops himself down on the soft grass, feeling the droplets of the evening dew soak through the fabric of his clothes. The city down below is starting to come alive, with street lights begin to glow brighter and brighter as time passes. Billboards and LED advertisement boards light up, turning on in a timely sequence, a myriad of colors mixing in with the day’s haze. Traffic is beginning to build up, the usual rush-hour pile up that was expected at six in the evening.

The community where Kenma lives in is a posh one, no doubt. It’s quieter here compared to the neighborhood he used to live in before, with the occasional tumult of children playing in the park nearby. People here walk their dogs and hold garden parties in their backyards during the weekends, minding their own business. A quiet life where it’s everyone to their own.

A world on its own.

Checking the time on his phone and seeing that he had only fifteen minutes until the meeting is about to start, Kenma heads for his house reluctantly. The peace and tranquility that he’s experienced today would have to wait for another time.

*

It’s very tempting to not reach for the steamy bowl of udon on the side while one of the managers discusses their budget.

Kenma looks at it longingly, the monster in his belly growling with hunger. He glances at the screen, where a middle-aged man in formal wear and glasses is reading off a notepad. Maybe he could sneak a bite-

“Ah, Kozume-san,” pipes up the spectacled man, looking up from his notepad. Kenma scrunches his nose in disgust, looking to the side. “Hinata Shoyo’s monthly allowance; have you come to a set amount?”

“Uh…” Kenma begins, as his hands fumble around his desk, trying to find the sheet of paper he had written down his proposed amount for the allowance.

The spectacled man-Kenma couldn’t bother to learn his name, he’d forget it anyway-waits patiently as his boss pulls out a piece of paper from under a stack of books, looking very satisfied with himself. Brandishing the paper in front of him like a newly acquired weapon in an RPG game, Kenma watches the spectacled man read the paper, leaning in closer to the screen as his eyes expand and contract like a spring under pressure.

He clears his throat before sitting up straight, adjusting his tie and shirt as he does so. “Kozume-san,” he begins, but Kenma knows what’s going to happen with that with that tone of voice. “Isn’t 50,000 yen per month a bit too...much?” He gives him a questioning look.

“Given the current state of the exchange rate,” Kenma replies, placing the paper on the desk before him and adjusting his posture in his chair, “It’s adequate to live comfortably in the city center. After all, you’re the one who suggested he stay in the city center.”

“You’re the one who suggested a beach condo, Kozume-san…”

“Completely irrelevant. We’re past the point of unnecessary spending,” Kenma interjects. He decides to shut up the thing inside him which won’t stop making noise with food, and reaches over for the still warm bowl of udon by his side. Saying his thanks, he begins to eat, as the spectacled man on the opposite side of the screen shakes his head tiredly.

“I have extra money that I don’t need. It’s not like I’m giving my life savings,” Kenma explains, slurping down a large portion. His insides are warm and satisfied, and the beastly growling has been subdued. _Victory._

“I understand that, Kozume-san, but maybe you don’t have to shower him with this much money, considering that he’s only been in Brazil for two weeks and not two months. Might I suggest a slightly smaller amount, something around 5,000 yen?” The spectacled man’s eyes are brimming with expectation.

“No.” Kenma looks at him directly. “He hasn’t even found a job yet. How do you expect him to live properly?” Kenma questions, setting the now half-empty bowl of udon down. “50,000 yen per month covers his basic expenses. His mom’s already given his college fund to cover his accommodation, so we don’t have to worry about that for the time being. Shoyo has some money from when he did part-time coaching while he was still here,” Kenma adds, now crossing his arms. “That should be enough for him to fund whatever mode of transport he plans on using during his time there. Brazil isn’t exactly the country everyone makes it out to be; it’s a lot harder to live there than it is here.”  
  


The spectacled man sighs in resignation, and a brief feeling of satisfaction flows through Kenma’s body. _Second victory._

“Alright. I’ll pass it on to the financial manager,” is his reply, as he begins to stack away his own papers, placing his little notepad from before on top of the neat pile. “Thank you for joining us today, Kozume-san,” the spectacled man says, giving him a small smile. “Please enjoy your meal, and have a good evening.”

“You too.” Kenma gives him a small nod in respect, and promptly hangs up. He goes back to his udon, playing around with the noodles with his chopsticks absentmindedly.

Pudding has returned from his adventures around the area, and has now clambered through the open window and settled down on a stack of books related to coding. He meows in greeting, and Kenma reaches over to scratch him under his chin.

“Why are you the only sensible person I know after Yaku-san and my mom?” he murmurs, as Pudding purrs in response, before licking the tips of Kenma’s keyboard-worn fingers with his rough tongue. Noticing that his cat has his eyes on an untouched piece of chicken sitting in his bowl, he picks it up with his chopsticks and feeds it to Pudding, who opens his mouth eagerly.

Kenma smiles softly, as Pudding stretches out and leaps off the stack of books, padding out of the room and into the direction of the laundry room. Kenma had remembered to leave out a basket of warm towels for him to come home to, and know he’s going for the comfort of those now.

It’s nine o’clock now, and Kenma can’t help but sigh. He didn’t expect the meeting to go on for two hours, but he’s glad it’s over and done with. In the morning, he’d get the email of approval from the financial manager, and he could start transferring money into Shoyo’s account.

_I wonder what he’s up to._

It should be nine in the morning now, but Kenma wouldn’t be surprised if Hinata was still asleep at this time. He knows he would be.

_Maybe I should call him._

It’s something Kenma’s considered doing the past two weeks, but instead resorting to texting because he wasn’t so sure if his friend would be comfortable with it. Kenma doesn’t even call his own friends from school or college.

_“You have a favorite, Kenma.”_

“Shut up,” he whispers, wanting Kuroo’s words out of his head. “There’s no such thing as having favorite people.”

Favorite people are too much work. He has enough work as it is.

He stretches out his legs, which are tucked underneath his body as usual. He figures they’ll probably go numb one of these days and cease to function with all the sitting he does. His eyes go to his phone wallpaper, which is a picture of him and Shoyo at nationals; Kenma in his No.2 Nekoma jersey and Shoyo’s in his No.5 Karasuno one. It had been their last match together before Kenma left for college.

He had changed it only recently, after he had noticed that Shoyo had adopted his number, which Kenma had worn during Shoyo’s first year of playing volleyball in high school. When Kenma had remarked that his number had changed, Shoyo had only given him a large smile.

 _“Something to remember you by,”_ was Shoyo’s explanation. _“I’ll miss standing opposite you on the court, Kenma.”_

 _Something to remember you by._ Kenma stands up and heads into his bedroom, turning on the room light before opening the wardrobe door. He reaches for the black and orange jersey hung up on the rack, which is next to Kenma’s own white and red own. He takes it down, sitting down on the floor as he does so, his hands running over the large number five emblazoned on the back. Shoyo’s last name is etched at the top, in small, white letters. 

He’d been given this the weekend that followed their last match together, when they had dinner at a sushi bar somewhere in Tokyo.

_“I have another one anyway,” Hinata says, as he hands him the bag. Kenma takes it with hesitation. How could Shoyo give him something that obviously meant a lot to him?_

_“Don’t worry about it. I’m getting a new one next year as well because this one is kinda tight and restricts my arms, plus it’s itchy.” Hinata chuckles, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s...uh...something for you to remember me, if we don’t see each other for some time.”_ _  
_ _“Why does everyone talk to me like they’re going to pass away?” Kenma whines, but his cheeks are flushed, mirroring Shoyo’s. ‘Probably the alcohol.’_

_Hinata laughs, a clear sweet sound that rings in Kenma’s ears pleasantly._

A laugh that Kenma can hear in his head to this day. A laugh that’s sweet and sharp, like the played strings of a harp. Like wind chimes in a cool summer’s breeze, or small bells that hang from his mom’s doorpost. 

Kenma holds it up, the soft fabric light in his hands. The faint scent of cinnamon and caramel wafts through his nostrils, and he can feel that feeling of fluttering warmth resonate within his body. He breathes in and out slowly, trying to get as much of that scent in him. 

His heart is beating at a quicker pace than before. It’s not long before all that’s in Kenma’s head are memories of him and Shoyo together.

Matches. Training camps. Dinners. Late-night texts. Shoyo excitedly talking about a game Kenma introduced him to. Walks in Miyagi whenever Kenma visited, Shoyo taking him to the new arcade that had been installed in the town center, and to the noodle house right after. How Kenma had shown Shoyo around when the latter visited Tokyo during the summer, taking him around to the Shibuya Crossing and watching him jump around with glee, infecting Kenma with a kind of happiness he hasn’t felt before.

Kenma clutches the jersey tighter, holding it close to his beating heart. The loneliness that resides in him since Shoyo’s departure is clawing away at the fibers of his heart, tearing him apart a thread at a time. 

There are no tears forming in Kenma’s eyes; his heart is so incredibly hurt that he can’t muster the need for tears. So he sits there, clutching Shoyo’s jersey to his chest, rocking back and forth.

Hinata Shoyo had been ripped away from Kenma before he got time to fully appreciate and cherish the boy.

With a heavy sigh he stands up, getting to his feet slowly. He hangs up the jersey, letting his fingers trail across the fabric one more time before he closes the wardrobe door. He exits the bedroom, switching off the light as he does so. Funny how something so small as a jersey was able to eat away at his mind.

He heads back to his gaming room, perusing through the books stacked in their cases. A text notification pops up on his phone screen. It’s from Shoyo.

_Do you wanna play Super Mario Bros? I’m bored. - Sho_

_“You have a favorite, Kenma.”_

_“Everyone has favorites.”_

_“I don’t.”_

_Well,_ Kenma thinks, a smile forming on his face as he settles into his gaming chair for probably the fifth time today. He pulls out his console from the drawer. _It’s not too late to make exceptions._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so. i was writing this and then i took a break around the middle part to listen to music on youtube, and i found this mix called moe shop and the thumbnail was this girl in a white shirt;;; except when it started playing i saw the thumbnail and it wasn't a girl in a white shirt sjdfbsjkdbfkjsdfb she had her shirt lifted up but they put a bar code over her chest?? like the girl in the art had her shirt lifted up and the artist put a bar code over her chest???? i was,,,,,not expecting this i thought it was a girl in a white shirt!!! but the mix was good, its cutesy edm?? if you listen to plexi, aests, or snail's house then it's exactly that kinda vibe. but yeah just thought i'd share dkjfbsdjkfs
> 
> anyway;;;;; how are u guys finding the fic so far?? i'm literally writing this when i have a whole math exam that opened today and then a physics one that opens on monday, so life is going great uwu (not really i wanna scream) that being said i hope you all are doing ok and taking care!! stay safe, ily all <3
> 
> if u wanna see more dumb shit from me u can follow me on twitter and tumblr:  
> twitter: aoba_joonsai  
> tumblr: stark-bot (if any of u used to follow me on unicorn-gureshin i apologize for not being active there i just dipped big time SDHFBSDFHB)
> 
> if u wanna see some more of my writing u can check out my wattpad:  
> seraphicity  
> i published an oikawa x oc fic on there so u can read that if u like!! 
> 
> i hope u enjoyed this chapter!! sending all my love <3  
> \- carmie


	5. the dimming of sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okmgjsbfskdjgbksjdbg   
> it's been a week since i updated this,,,or maybe more,,, i'm so sorry i was busy with college and i didn't get time to right but,,,,i finished my first year hehe!! so here's a lil update from me uwu

They always say that it’s normal for you to experience homesickness in the first few weeks of being away from everyone and the place that you grew up in. They say you eventually get over it, that there will come a time where you are happy with where you are right now, and that you know that all the nights spent crying and wishing you were in your own bed back home are worth it.

Hinata Shoyo wants to ask if they’re still worth it even after a month has passed.

Things take time, he knows that better than most. But everyone’s patience grows thin, and Hinata isn’t any different. By now, he sort of expected himself to have made some kind of progress. Any kind, even in the height department (though he knows that was kind of pushing it).

So why does this feel like a complete waste of time and energy? Why does he feel so _ helpless _ ?

Those who graduated with him are doing so much better. Kageyama’s playing in the international league. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are in college, and Yachi is working as a temp in a design firm. And here he is, sitting in his bedroom, crying his eyes out as his roommate sits in their shared living room, eating dinner and being carefree. Something in Portuguese is blaring through the speakers of their TV (a welcome gift from Kenma when Hinata moved in), but he can’t be bothered to go and tell Pedro to turn the volume down. So he decides to hunker down in the bed, wrapping himself in the mass of blankets he had bought three days ago, and hopes that the tears will stop.

It’s a stinging rampage on his face; they burn and bite more than insects do during the humidity. He knows that when he wakes up in the morning and washes his face that the person staring back at him will be someone else entirely. Someone with a red, splotchy face, eyebags that have seen better days, and the runniest nose known to mankind that would make doctors never ever want to approach him. They spill and they continue to spill, like a broken tap that just lets the water flow out in varying sizes of droplets even after you fix it. 

It hurts, so so much. The pain he feels inside is worse than anything he’s ever felt before. There’s guilt and remorse tearing away at his soul, eating away at the tiny fibers that stitch together his very fabric of being. He feels like he’s being ripped to shreds like a tailor undoing stitches to an already premade piece of clothing; he can’t remember the last time he had ever felt so unraveled.

The buzzing of his phone beside him forces him to crane his neck to the side and check who could be calling him at this late at night. The call notification brightens up the phone screen; it makes him sick.

Through bleary eyes he tries his best to read the name on the screen, and once he’s rubbed his eyes one too many times he makes out Kenma’s name.

_ Why is he calling me? _ _   
  
_

Despite Kenma only fulfilling the role of sponsor during Hinata’s time here, this past month has been the most lavish he’s ever had to experience. Despite his current emotional state and how homesick he feels every day, Kenma has never stopped the barrage of gifts that are delivered to Hinata’s shared apartment every two days. 

First it was the television, which Pedro currently occupies during the night. Next was the package of books on physical health and nutrition, as well as a cookbook with a note attached to it, that read:  _ For when you wanna try new things - Kenma.  _ Soon after that, Kenma had made it a point to deliver the newest volumes of Hinata’s favorite manga to him every week, and Hinata isn’t sure if this was going to lead him to open a book rental here. 

Apart from the books and television, Kenma had sent him a copious amount of money for his monthly allowance, which partly went to the blanket haul, but Hinata had put the rest into savings. 

But that was it. Gifts from a friend overseas. There had been a few emails exchanged between the both of them whenever Hinata found time to write one, but that was it. It ended up making Hinata yearn for more, because Kenma has now become the only connection he has to a life he misses.

So when he sees a call from Kenma pop up on his phone, he can’t help but hesitate to answer it. After all, they haven’t really spoken to each other since Hinata left.

His finger wavers over the answer button. Should he, or should he not? Will he regret this? Will Kenma even speak to him?

With a heavy sigh, his thumb presses down on the little green phone, gulping slightly.

There’s a little bit of static silence, and nothing is said. Hinata’s anxious to say hello, but he readies himself to greet his friend when Kenma’s soft voice comes through the receiver.

“Shoyo?”

No one’s ever really called him Shoyo, with the only exception being his mom. Up until he had left high school he was always called by his last name, but the only other person who had called him Shoyo is Kenma. That’s an unsaid rule between the both of them, to refer to each other by their first names and without the need of honorifics; mostly because Kenma hates it but Hinata couldn’t help but think that it implies a much deeper sense of closeness between the both of them. 

Being called by his first name, especially by Kenma, is a feeling that Hinata wants to experience time and time again.

“Kenma!” Hinata practically squeals, an obvious attempt to hide the wavering in his voice. There’s a chuckle at the end of the line, a soft one. In his head, he pictures Kenma’s face as one of those peaceful cats sleeping in the sun, eyes closed in bliss and purring happily.

“How have you been, Shoyo?” Kenma asks, and Hinata can hear the rustle of fabric in the background as Kenma adjusts himself.

“Did you just wake up, Kenma?” Hinata queries, and there’s a soft hum in response. “I’ve been sitting in bed for the past hour or so, doing some work,” Kenma replies, his voice still soft. “But I’ve fallen asleep for two or three minutes during that hour, so I guess so.”

Hinata smiles, aware that Kenma can’t see him. But if he did, he’d probably smile back too, in that small smile kind of way Kenma does, and not very often too. Hinata had called it Kenma’s special smile, which he only gave to people he thought was special.

Superficial to Hinata yes, but it made him feel important to a person.

“It’s noon there, Kenma…” Hinata begins, but he hears Kenma grumble.

“Sleep is for the weak, Shoyo.”

Hinata lets out a laugh, one that deeply resonates within him. He never fully understood how hollow he felt inside up until now. 

“You sound really happy, Shoyo,” comes Kenma’s soft voice. “Are you enjoying it there?”

_ Are you enjoying it there? _

The question makes his heart break. He’s doing anything but enjoying it; so far, it’s been one tumultuous rollercoaster after another, one where he doesn’t know if it’ll stop doing the loop at all.

He’s been waking up at the crack of dawn for training, meeting up with teams on the beach and practicing with them whenever he could. In the one month he’s been here, he’s managed to find a job as a delivery boy, but it’s been taxing so far. He’s been doing everything he can: sticking to Coach Ukai’s strict diet regime, meeting up with Coach Washijo’s friend Lucio Kato to improve his skills, taking it upon himself to further his physical wellbeing and strength. But nothing,  _ nothing at all _ , seems to be going in the direction he wants it to go. So no, he’s not  _ enjoying  _ it, he loathes it; but he can't tell Kenma that. He can’t make his friend worry.

So he lies through his teeth. After all, Kenma has no way of checking up on him from all the way in Japan.

“Yeah,” Hinata says, swallowing down the sob that threatens to spill out from his throat. “Yeah, I’m enjoying it.”

Oh, how badly does he want to scream into the receiver and tell Kenma that it hurts, that it hurts so  _ fucking  _ much, that he misses home and wants to come back to the small town he grew up in. 

“That’s great to hear, Shoyo,” Kenma replies; he sounds pleased. “I’m happy. I just wanted to call and check in on you, and see if you’re doing okay. So it makes me happy to hear that you are. Do you need any more money?” Kenma asks, now sounding concerned. “I can always arrange for more-”

“No, it’s okay,” Hinata interrupts, wiping away the small tears that escape the corner of his eyes. “I got a job here as well, so I’m making my own money. You don’t have to worry.”

There’s no reply from Kenma other than a small hum of understanding. There’s more rustling of blankets, and a small purr is heard.

“Ah, Pudding is here,” Kenma says, his tone soft and warm again. “I named my cat Pudding.”   


It’s such a small and trivial thing, but it makes Hinata smile. A small one, but it’s still a smile, which is more than he can muster at the moment.

“Did you name him that because your hair used to look like pudding?” Hinata queries, now lying down on his back, the phone next to his head. 

“Uh, no,” Kenma replies, clearly not impressed with the joke. It makes Hinata chuckle.

“I named him after you,” Kenma says, clearing his throat. There’s a warm feeling that rises in Hinata’s chest, and the tears on his cheeks dry up from how hot they’ve become.

“Because you know, you remind me of pudding. Well, you at least smell like it. Hence the name,” Kenma explains bluntly, as Pudding lets out a little meow.

Even if Kenma isn’t there in person to see his reaction, Hinata looks away from the phone, now feeling very shy. 

“That’s-that’s nice,” Hinata stutters out a reply, now looking back at the phone screen. “I didn’t know I smelled like pudding but it’s nice to k-know that I do.” Hinata clears his throat loudly, now resting on his side. 

“Yeah, so if you tell Kuroo about it I won’t talk to you ever again,” Kenma answers, but Hinata can tell he’s feeling bashful. “It’s embarrassing to say something like that out loud, now that I think about it. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-”

“No, no!” Hinata rushes, his eyes widening in surprise. “I’m not uncomfortable. Just...just really honored in a funny way, you know?” He smiles at the phone like an idiot, knowing full well Kenma can’t see him at all.

“I don’t,” comes Kenma’s blunt reply; Hinata can’t help but laugh out loud, this time more genuine than before. The hollowness inside him is slowly filling up.

“It’s getting late there, Shoyo,” Kenma says after a while, breaking the shared silence. “You should get to sleep.”   
Hinata looks at the time; it’s almost half past one in the morning. He can no longer hear the sounds of the television in the living room, which means Pedro must have gone to bed a while back. 

“Ah...yeah, you’re right…” Hinata begins, as he breaks into a loud yawn. He stretches his arms like a cat.

“Sleep well, Shoyo,” Kenma whispers, loud enough for Hinata to hear through the receiver. “We’ll talk soon. It was nice hearing your voice.”

There’s no reply from Hinata, whose eyes have shut themselves tightly in drowsiness, his body curled up underneath the mass of blankets. Who knew crying could sucker-punch the energy out of you?

Kenma chuckles warmly, murmuring a small “I love you” into the receiver before cutting the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> skdjfbskjdfbsk kenhina gay i believe in kenhina supremacy
> 
> all jokes aside we're halfway through the fic ;-; i too wish it wasn't ending soon but it is what it is,,,maybe i'll do a sequel LMAO ok we'll see
> 
> i hope u enjoyed this!! thank u for all your continuous support and love towards this fic!! 
> 
> ooh also hmm i published this on my wattpad as well, so if u wanna check it out there and give it some l u v, head over to my account!! its @seraphicity
> 
> and if u wanna scream at me on twt u can its @aoba_joonsai . my dms are always open!!!
> 
> ok take care ily <3


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